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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 7, Poema 45
XLV.
As
imperceptibly
as
grief
The
summer
slipped
away,—
Too
imperceptible,
at
last,
To
seem
like
betrayal.
A
quietness
distilled,
As
twilight
long
begun,
Or
Nature,
spending
with
herself
A
secluded
afternoon.
The
dusk
arrived
earlier,
The
morning
foreign
shone,—
A
courteous,
yet
harrowing
grace,
As
a
guest
who
would
depart.
And
so,
without
a
wing,
Or
service
of
a
keel,
Our
summer
made
her
light
escape
Into
the
beautiful.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C1 Inglés | Cuentana